VulcanHalf: Reunion
by Master Solo
Summary: What if the Expanse stuff never happened? ATP, starts 30some years in the future and goes backwards
1. Chapter 1

Note: I don't know what the name Vastrol really means, but I just made up a meaning to suit both the man from T'Pol's story and her son. And I know this is irrelevant, but I beg of you to visit this Reunion  
  
By Master Solo  
  
A boy of about seven moved at an inhuman speed down the corridors of the Enterprise as shots flew past his head. An ugly, large alien enemy blocked the way to the bridge, but the child was not frightened or worried. A mixture of panic and excitement coursed through the child's veins as his feet carried him toward the bridge, but all he showed on the outside was that the mental training his mother gave him had not gone to waste. Physically Vulcan, the boy's body was strong and easy to maneuver.  
  
The warrior winced and clutched his foot as the child flashed past him and stuck his tongue out. So far, the young child was able to injure several of the pirates that attacked the only home he ever knew. The boy did not know who the aliens were, but he knew they were enemies of the Enterprise.  
  
The child returned his gaze to the path that lay before him, but it was too late. He had already stepped on a toy truck and slammed into a wall. The alien did not hesitate to take advantage of the situation and peeled the child off the wall.  
  
The alien then commed his comrades. "I've got the twerp that's been breaking our fingers. I believe this is the son of the Captain."  
  
"Is he conscious? This child is no ordinary boy. Unless he is unconscious, he will be a danger to all of us. I want the boy here unconscious but alive." Came the reply over the comlink.  
  
"I have captured this boy unconscious. I will be presenting him in mere seconds." Or so he thought.  
  
For the several hours, if not more than a day, the child, although unable to access his muscles, was able to feel the intense pain that jolted through his body. He also felt himself carried to a foul-smelling place and hit with a stun shot that instead of making him sleep, had only intensified his pain and kept him aware. Only his mother's Vulcan training kept him from giving in to the fierce anger and hatred that came with his pain.  
  
The boy opened his eyes to find himself in a filthy, poorly lit cage. That explains the stench. His whole body was jolting with pain, but the child resisted the forces of his body that urged him to sleep and opened his eyes. Had he had the energy, the boy would have gasped at what he saw around him. Every friend that played hide-and-seek with him was piled up unconscious, if not dead, in the cage, with himself on the top of the pile. Everybody except for his older sister, T'Rin. The boy found a small amount of relief combined with despair in that his sister, the child that he loved and trusted the most, was still with Mother and Father.  
  
Before the boy could attempt to regain control of his body, he heard somebody yelling from another room.  
  
"You idiot! These human children are supposed to be alive! Now we have just one Vulcan boy! We want ransom, not retaliation!" Shouted the man that was presumed to be the captain.  
  
"Sir, I did set this on stun. I cannot be blamed for this malfunction." Said the second voice.  
  
"Imbecile! Haven't you paid any attention in your classes? Stun bolts are lethal to children of some species!"  
  
Why do I have to be a Vulcan like Mother? Why do I have to see this? I guess they'll regret not killing me. I'm gonna get Mother, Father, T'Rin, Uncle Trip, Aunt Hoshi, and they'll be sorry. The child regained control of his body and clenched his fists at the thought. The boy did not hear the rest of the conversation because his mixture of anger, hatred, and other emotions had raised his body temperature by many degrees, consumed the child's mind, and erased all evidence of the mental training his mother gave him.  
  
A jet of green blood was streaming out of one of his nostrils, but the Vulcan did not care. Taking advantage of his age and size, the child squeezed through the widely spaced bars of the cage. The boy, lost in his emotions and driven feral like his mother's ancestors, sped down a random direction. He pushed every button and dented every surface in his path.  
  
Before he was all the way down one corridor, the child felt the ship enter hyperspace at a very high warp. He saw people chasing and shooting at him, and he instinctively fought. The small boy grabbed one soldier's elbow and disjoined the joint with the gift of inhuman, even in-Vulcan strength that was given to him before birth.  
  
The child felt the ship return to real space with a jolt that flung him into the wall. Bitter and guilty at the most recent events of his life, the Vulcan started a process that would seal away all his past memories before he lost consciousness due to the impact of hitting a wall.  
  
When the child woke up again, he saw a large, uniformed man that to his surprise, had the same pointed ears and slanted eyebrows as his mother, his sister, and himself. All the enemies around him were either dead or stunned.  
  
The man smiled a feral smile that indicated the embrace of fierce emotions as he helped the blood-covered child up. From the appearance of his uniform, the man was a warrior of high rank.  
  
As the boy stood up, he felt the texture of the man's hand. He could tell from its roughness that the man was a warrior who was highly experienced in hand-to-hand combat and had a lust for battle.  
  
Sensing the boy's final thoughts before losing consciousness, the man said, "Not used to anger, I see. You must be Vulcan. The people of Ch'Rihan and Ch'Havran have this age-old saying: Let thy anger be thy lifeblood, and thou shalt find a life of greatness. Tell me, child, what is your name?"  
  
"Vastrol." He paused, trying to remember the name his mind had begun to seal away. He then said his father's name in a slightly slurred voice, "Ar- Arsher."  
  
"Interesting name, traveling swordsman. Do you know how to contact your parents?" The man asked.  
  
The boy shook his head, having already forgotten more than half of his past. Still remembering some of his mother's stories, he added, "My mother called me Vastrol."  
  
"Keep that a secret. A secret name can come in very handy during an emergency. Do you know your way home, child?"  
  
Vastrol shook his head again. "I don't know how I got here. Who are you, mister?"  
  
"People call me Avanien." He said in a warm tone.  
  
After the Vulcan boy answered several more questions from the man, the man decided that the only place the child could go was to Ch'Rihan. He said, "Come with me, Vastrol, to Ch'Rihan. Looks like you'll be staying there for a while. We need to go to a priest to find an appropriate name for you to use in the public. I think he'll name you Joniek."  
  
***  
  
A ship of Klingon design sat within a military base on the planet of Ch'Rihan. It belonged to and was the home of a young, high-ranking warrior named Joniek. Joniek was a dashing and unusual man, mostly due to the trait for extra brawns that affected men of his mother's family for generations and a slight mistake that occurred during his regeneration.  
  
When the young man was sent on his first mission, a raid upon a mine, a few months ago, he became engaged in hand-to-hand combat with enemy guards to buy his team time. When the enemy realized they could not defeat him in hand-to-hand combat, they trapped Joniek on a bridge directly above the lava and turned the bridge upside-down, dumping the man into what would have been his death had somebody not collected his mind through a strange bond and his hand, which had been severed a few minutes earlier, before Joniek was driven to the middle of the bridge.  
  
When Joniek's hand was given to a group of doctors so that the body could be regenerated, a gene was miscopied and added hints of red to his chocolate-colored hair. It was also then that the man's dormant, human half was discovered. When he was told, memories of his mysterious past began to surface in the form of dreams, each clearer than the last.  
  
It had been months since the seventeen-year-old began to dream of the little boy that was chased and hurt. Joniek suddenly awoke from the hundredth dream he has had of the little boy. He looked down and saw his whole, bare upper body covered in sweat. He got up and looked around confusedly for a moment, still not used to the piece of loot that got him promoted a week ago and became his home. He found the water he was looking for and poured it over his head to wash away some sweat.  
  
Gotta remind myself to get somebody to replace that shower. He thought as he put the large, martial-arts training shirt on and walked towards the large room that he and a group of friends transformed into a training hall. Practicing his moves and lifting weights always helped him to clear his mind of that little boy that kept on bothering him.  
  
That kid. Dammit! That's me! That matches Avanien's story! I told him my mother named me Vastrol and he found me all bloodied. The thought struck Joniek as he sauntered down the hallway; piecing together the load of new information on the story of the child he had been dreaming of. He stopped dead in his tracks. No. That can't be me. The kid doesn't even look like me. I'd never allowed anyone to cut my hair, let alone that short and neat. But those eyes...nah, it's just my imagination.  
  
The man closed his eyes for a moment, and then reopened them, revealing the green color that almost never occurred in his species. The lights of the night shone upon his face, emphasizing the unusual features that made him a magnet for females. His hair not only complimented but also fell over his eyes. He pale face showed features that made him resemble a male version of T'Pol. Whatever hair that was not tied back into his ponytail helped to emphasize his facial features.  
  
"Joniek." The comlink in his pocket came on. The voice was that of one of Joniek's superiors, Evennon.  
  
"Yes, sir?" Joniek replied after fumbling through the hidden pockets of his clothing.  
  
"I know the timing is awkward, but we need your to help us with some prisoners that were trying to take apart one of our mines. Your resemblance to the Vulcan woman might be a good tool for us to use."  
  
"A Vulcan? Trying to break a mine? Are you sure this is not a joke from one of my friends or one of our pariahs? So where do you want me to be?"  
  
"This is no joke, though only you can tell us who that woman is. I have taken these prisoners to interrogation chamber number 20. I expect to see you there."  
  
"Yessir." Joniek said. He then walked back into his quarters and replaced his current attire with his uniform. The warrior had spent as much time interrogating stubborn prisoners as he had on the battlefield due to his ability to read the mind of whomever he touches (and inflict pain in the process of doing so), his skill at hand-to-hand combat, and his brute strength, which was many times the norm for the Vulcan male.  
  
A walk later...  
  
Joniek arrived in the interrogation chamber and found himself facing an aging human man and a middle-aged woman of his species, both wearing blue. A woman who could be his female, less muscular clone.  
  
"Joniek. You are prompt as your description boasted." A short man joined Joniek and the pair of prisoners.  
  
"General Evannon."  
  
"These people told me they are on a mission from a planet called Earth. Their ship is called Enterprise. I need you to confirm this because I did not find such a planet in the database. This pair also claim to be married."  
  
If Joniek was a non-hybrid in any place but an interrogation chamber, he would have roared with laughter. Instead, all hint of blood drained from his face. He thumbed on his translator and said, "I am Centaurian Joniek and I am here to confirm your identities, um..."  
  
"Captain Archer and T'Pol." Evannon said. He then added as he left the room. "I will leave until I am needed again."  
  
"Captain Archer and T'Pol." Joniek managed to say without revealing his surprise at the possible English translation for his blurry family name. He then smiled and extended his hand.  
  
The human took the hand, and Joniek began to probe the man's mind, expecting answers when a mechanism within his own mind hurled the hybrid into a wall so hair that he left several dents in the metal.  
  
Joniek heard a voice mutter his secret name, Vastrol, as he got back on his feet.  
  
"What the hell was that for?" The Captain shouted, not knowing who exactly he was talking to.  
  
"That was supposed to be the lie detector, but I'm sorry I couldn't do it right. I've done it many times before and this is the only time it went wrong. Sorry, I can promise you a more painless procedure that doesn't slam me next time." Joniek's voice was quiet and uncertain. "Did somebody say something about a wanderer or a traveler?"  
  
After sensing approval from T'Pol, the Captain said, "I had a son. His name meant traveler in Vulcan."  
  
"Strange." Joniek said, not daring to reveal his secret name yet. He then continued. "I need to get you two out of here."  
  
The warrior thumbed his comlink and said to his superiors that the Captain and the Vulcan were well-meaning explorers who did not mean to get stuck in the mines.  
  
"Tell them they may leave after paying for the damage they caused." Came the response.  
  
"Yes, sir." He then relayed the message.  
  
"How much is this fine?" asked T'Pol.  
  
"It's for my superiors to decide." Joniek replied. He the showed the pair out and added. "Mind if I ask a few personal questions? I have vague memories of a ship named Enterprise."  
  
"Sure." Replied the Captain, puzzled.  
  
"Ten years ago, did the Enterprise lose a group of kids? Especially a seven-year-old Vulcan boy that was half-human?"  
  
"That was my son." The Captain growled. Before anything could break out, Joniek raised his hands up in the air.  
  
"Wait, I am your son, then." Joniek said in a barely audible tone. "Either that, or I've met another that knows about cross-species hybrids like myself." 


	2. AN

Author: I've replaced Chappie 2 with this note because I just realized that I should've included a lot of stuff that I didn't include. Thing may turn out to be a bit weird because I really suck at psychology and lack certain elements involved in situations like this (only child, unemotional in some aspects, more books than baby-sitting, no kids or spouse, still a student) 


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my characters and ideas. Everything else (the Captain, T'Pol, _Enterprise_...) belongs to the producers of Star Trek or its source/owner, so don't sue poor Caroline. It ain't worth it.

Author: I'm not sure if this fic portrays accurate Vulcan behavior, since I just based a lot of 'info' what I saw and read (the movies, Enterprise and Vulcan's Glory in particular). For those of you that didn't read Vulcan's Glory (I assumed everyone's seen the show and the movies), Sarek accurately predicted Spock's actions to the last detail after having zero contact with his son for eight years. If you're confused, feel free to email me cuz I don't think I can say all I want to say here.

Enterprise theme song plays and ends

Chapter 2: Back to Enterprise

"This should be enough to replace those mines." Joniek dug into his pocket and fished out a strange substance. "Um, Captain and Sub-commander, do you want me to arrange a meeting with someone from the foreign relations sect?"

The Captain was quite surprised at his son's offer. "Thank you. That would be nice. If you are Vastrol, then how did you get here?"

Recalling his dreams, Joniek replied, "I was captured. Somehow, I kicked the hyperspace engine and the ship took me here. General Avanien found me and brought me here. Captain, please, don't use my secret name in this public building. It is my only trademark to my friends when the worst of the worst happens."

"Sorry. So you don't use your real name?" asked the Captain, stunned that his son was still alive. It was impossible, for both T'Pol and their first child, T'Rin, felt their bond with the child break off a long time ago. T'Pol had explained to him decades ago that bonds between Vulcan family members related by blood, especially ones that did not hold back emotion, were impossible to even scratch without aid from professionals that existed only in the large cities of Vulcan. Yet he was sure that his son had done the impossible of misleading every Vulcan that lived aboard the _Enterprise_ into thinking he was dead and then reappearing when he was least expected. No Vulcan could possibly bear such uncanny resemblance to T'Pol and reveal a mind full of unrestrained, human emotions in a single touch.

"Joniek is my real and official name." Remembering how humans treated names, he added, "Here, the names we are given at birth are secrets between family and friends. Our priests decide who we are in the public. But if you're not comfortable with my public name, we all can meet in a secluded area when we are all free."

Joniek shifted his gaze upon the closest temple in the area and then back to the path in front of him. He then commed his superiors and told them that their 'prisoners' were ready to pay their fines and were interested in establishing contact between their people and the residents of the twin planets.

"Diplomats, have we?" Evennon asked.

"They're traveling around the galaxy and trying to see where everyone is. They really are from a planet called Earth."

"Interesting."

"Sir, what about the fine? They are prepared to pay."

"Forget it. We have one from Vulcan and we can't let this opportunity pass. The clan has to know and write down all the descendants of Shallin. We both know those matriarchs will say the same." The man on the other side of the com clicked off the link.

"Evennon asks that you stay in this colony or go back to your ship as long as you don't leave too soon. This place hasn't had contact with Vulcan in three hundred years. If you want, we can find a secluded place and tell each other a few things.."

"Can we contact our crew? If we do not communicate, they will come searching." T'Pol said.

"Yes, m..." Joniek felt a strong and agonizing mental wave wash over his mind as he stopped himself from saying 'mother'.

Flashback

Joniek saw his younger self again, only that the boy was no older than five this time. He was sitting on T'Pol's lap as a girl sat at her side. The girl, around seven years older than the other child, had chocolate-brown hair that just barely touched her shoulders and barely above her eyes. She had rare, blood-colored eyes that so much resembled his and T'Pol's. Just barely visible beneath the thick hair were the characteristics of the Vulcan species, pointed ears and slanted eyebrows.

Joniek then felt a mental touch. The feeling he felt from the source of the touch was very different from the textures of the minds of those he interrogated. The person that touched him radiated the disturbing feeling of a very close bond that could only be forged through intense love or close blood-relationship.

The boy looked into T'Pol's eyes and thought. _Mother._ In response, he received a sense of approval from the Vulcan woman. He then felt another touch his mind. This time, the touch came from a more enthusiastic and emotional mind. _Hello brother._ The thought was not his own.

_T'Rin._ Joniek heard himself respond. He sensed a link to a weaker, human mind in both females. He felt himself try to mentally can out to the human, whom he somehow recognized as his father. However, before he could say anything, he felt a thought from his mother.

This will be all for today. Your father is not like us. I will teach you to communicate with him when you finish your current training and are more adept to discipline your mind. You've done well, now go and play.

End of flashback.

A drop of sweat hit the ground as Joniek struggled to not lose his balance. Why had his mother produced such a feeling in him? With his father, it was a mere hurl into the wall, but with his mother, he felt his mind shatter and his body nearly self-destructed. Before the hybrid could ponder the answer, his father spoke.

T'Pol nearly staggered as the bond that once existed with her son returned. She did not know how to react to what she felt. The Vulcans had achieved high degrees of mental skills such as forming and dissolving bonds through discipline, yet this one had dissolved not one, but two bonds formed by shared blood through a total lack of discipline. The mind was open to emotions and more human than Vulcan, with whatever Vulcan discipline he knew tossed aside most of the time. He only behaved like a child raised on Vulcan in from of the Vulcan High Command.

T'Pol forced herself to be logical as disbelief attempted to wash over her. The only Vulcan that could even have a ghost of a chance of repairing a shattered bond with his mere presence would be her one and only son. Rejection was illogical, for the mind she felt was just like her young son's. The child mastered all she had taught him, but more often than not, he threw the discipline aside and acted like a human, without emotional restraint. And that Evennon mentioned the descendants of the famed T'Shallin without acknowledging that the woman was a lady...

"My son, we would like for you to come aboard the _Enterprise_ for a test."

On Vulcan...

A young woman felt something sharp hit her subconscious mind, fading as quickly as it came. Her Vulcan training had restrained most of the overwhelming emotional barrage unleashed by the hit, but she could not stop her hand from flying to her forehead as she struggled to contain the chaotic emotions. Her younger brother had managed break the record for playing dead at age seven.

The Vulcan temporarily tied back her waist-length hair and switched on one of her computers. She had a message to send to the _Enterprise _ and she might have to contact her teammates in the research center for a few days off so she could visit the place of her birth. It would be ironic if she did return to that ship, for she had begged her parents to allow her to live and work for the Vulcans on her mother's warm, home planet six years ago.

TBC...


End file.
